


A Whole New World

by witchindancin



Category: Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Dates, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Fluff and Angst, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pretty Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchindancin/pseuds/witchindancin
Summary: The Harry Potter Glee Fanfiction Nobody Asked ForHarry Potter starts his new life in New York in an auror exchange programme. Trying to put as much distance between him and his past, he is determined to make this one count and begin anew in the land of the free. Not only does he has to process everything that had happened during the war, but he also discovered some new things about himself. Luckily, he finds a friend in Kurt Hummels, who works at Vogue to pay for his dream of making it on Broadway. Everything goes as planned when, unexpectedly, Draco Malfoy enters his life again.(Disclaimer: I wrote this fic like 4 years ago (maybe more) and never uploaded it anywhere. So if anything sounds kinda outdated, its because it is. I'm currently editing it and posting each chapter probably every week or so.)
Relationships: Blaine Anderson & Kurt Hummel, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 4





	1. Broadway, Baby

It was a sunny and mild morning with a clear blue sky spreading far across the city, undisturbed of any foreboding cloud.

The only rambling on this autumn day was one of the cars already scrambling the streets as any other day.

Gentle yellowish sunshine advanced through the windows in average flats, sometimes more generously shaped, sometimes so small the light barely reached its destination.

Slowly the main street came alive, more people were yelling for cabs, rushing silently upon the pavement, strapping bags, smartphones pressed against their jaw.

Businesswomen and men, parents with toddlers and tired-out students filling the surface, from far above, in one of the skyscrapers not bigger than ants and just as blurry.

 _Muggle New York_ , thought Harry.

Well, here you couldn't separate the Muggles from Witches and Wizards, he sighed, could you?

Back home, even though living in central London, the magical and the non-magical communities were precisely divided, not only Diagon Alley, but all the hidden paths and corners were missing here.

Paths to avoid unwelcome encounters in precarious situations.

Of course here, too, locations and isolated areas existed for exclusively magical folks, but all in all, New Yorkers (or Americans?) seemed to emerge more with the common muggle world than the British did.

Harry couldn't point out why it bugged him this much.

The only explanation he had was that after spending eighteen miserable years with the most muggle-ish family in existence, after receiving endless hatred towards his kind, the association of muggle and sorrow was so deeply engraved in his very being, that getting used to this lifestyle again was painful.

As painful as his memories.

He understood the New Yorkers, why they were keeping so close to the muggles.

It was indeed easier to adopt a lifestyle that included the carefulness among non-magical people then trying to forcefully keep both worlds apart.

Still, Harry felt a nervous flutter in his stomach from time to time.

Simultaneously, he was astonished how fast one could completely let go of more than eleven years of his life.

Amazed by the human ability to replace the known with promising new practices.

Non-wizard little Harry, wrested of his parents, mistreated by his wards and relatives, brought up in an environment so lethal to his self-consciousness, his self-awareness was gone.

Finally, Harry thought, reflecting his childhood and adolescence.

Naturally, it took some time to put most of this traumatizing, ill-natured family situation behind him.

Naturally, he only started to process all of his - generally - screwed up past after defeating Voldemort, probably needing serious medical care.

Now, here he stood, New York City, auror apprentice, about to "experience wizarding life from an international perspective, collecting valuable knowledge and learn to handle foreign situations.

It was an honour to be part of the exchange project, that connected magical societies across borders.", his superiors said.

The "honour" being Harry Potter meant he was treated as a prestige item, showing the other party how highly the British aurorship thought of their American colleagues.

At least that's how Harry thought of it.

Although he was more awkward around people here than back home, frightened of making a fool of himself - he soon discovered that besides this unfamiliar environment he enjoyed America.

Witches and wizards as muggles were flashed by the pure size of the city, and its restless pace.

The first time he entered the main street, he felt like he was thrown out on a quidditch field.

He loved it.

Shortly after, the city grew on him, he was shown the local witch and wizards bars, shopping miles and broom stores, some fine little shops he had here and he was grateful for the warm-hearted and honest welcome from his new colleagues and superiors.

He really shouldn't stand mourning on his window questioning life itself.

It was a nice day, he had a nice life full of opportunities.

Harry knew what was really going on here, why his mood was so gloomy and idle.

He missed Ron, he missed Hermione, he missed his friends and family - if not in blood, then at heart.

Spending your whole life in mainly the same place was devastating at times, but mostly it meant leaving a hole when going abroad.

Get a grip, Potter, everything's alright, so don't dramatize it.

A sneering voice faintly echoed through his head.

But he was so used to it, Harry didn't recognize it was there.

Sighing, he pushed himself away from the window on which he had lent and slipped in his light-fawn jacket and forced a smile on his face to not scare the neighbours on his way outside with a grim look.

In the elevator he notoriously ruffled through his hair, making it look like a hopeless mess.

He never wondered why he didn't care about his hair, why he - in fact - liked it as wild and untameable as it was.

In his teenage years he never really had the nerve to think too much about his appearance.

Not saying he never thought about it, but he _did_ have more important issues back then.

Nowadays, he pondered about interests one would usually figure out as a teenager.

In his defence, he never fully accomplished being an average teenage boy.

Not being a full member of the aurors had its perks, too, he wasn't 24h involved in deatheater prosecutions, fights and rows, leaving him time to think.

On his way down, nobody entered and Harry busy with life- stumbled through the door out in the brought sunlight.

"Watch out, man!", an old chubby man snapped, as he bumped into him.

"S-sorry." Harry managed to say, but the man already hurried away, and Harry stood fully disorientated in the middle of Midtown Manhatten.

Such a situation or similar ones happened every second day.

After months living here, Harry still was an alien in New York.

Slowly he made his way towards the tube- eh subway, looking carefully right and left to not occasionally run into strangers again.

So far, so good, he thought.

New York was loud, no matter where you went, one could easily lose oneself in the noise.

Intimidating, yet protective in its absorption of the person, shielding everyone from each other.

As Harry, lost in thoughts skipped every second stair, he should have known it wasn't a clever thing to do.

Reaching the floor he collided with a slender, but resilient body, which prevented both of them from falling.

"Ahh, Harry I knew you would bump into me one day or another!", he looked up into a smiling and cheerful looking face.

"Oh, shite! Kurt! I'm sorry!", he said still perplex because of the collision.

"No harm done.", Kurt calmed him light-heartedly.

"Could you two lovebirds step aside?!", an angry voice barked, followed by an arm shoving Harry aside, who stumbled against Kurt again but didn't fell.

"Quite civilized, uh?!", Kurt yelled at the stranger with a slight frown on his forehead.

"I guess he's right, though." he turned to Harry with his usual, sunny smile on his face.

"We are standing in the way, come!", he grabbed Harry's arm and lead him a few steps away.

"So..", Kurt began, "What are you up to on a Saturday? Particularly on one so nice as today?"

"Ehm, nothing... if I'm honest. I just went outside, because", then he paused as he had no idea how to continue, there was no place for him to be at, nothing important to do.

Kurt must have seen the unease looming on Harry's face for he said immediately, "No plans? Great, me too.

We will have brunch then, the most royal kind of meal.", he laughed and dragged Harry upstairs again, in the direction he just came from.

"How's the assimilation going, British boy?", Kurt asked conversationally as they strolled along the main street.

"Good, I guess. I dig your pizza." he laughed then looking up slightly embarrassed: "That sounded wrong."

"Not at all, why would it?", Kurt said comforting as they walked by a huge fountain, water drops sparkling in the air.

"Anything you recommend for brunch?", Harry asked after they walked silently, enjoying the warm sunshine on their faces.

"Yes, I know just the place for us.", smiling dangerously excited.

"You won't force me to stand outside Tiffany's to drink my coffee, will you?", Harry mourned half mockingly, half fearing this could be true.

"All those British prejudices.", Kurt sighed, but with a smile on his lips.

"Come on, you'll love it." They ended up in a rather modern hipster bar, with a huge window front, white furniture and lilac decorations.

Everything was smooth and stylish, and Harry actually did like it.

Over a table with treats on fancy plates, they discussed the latest news from Kurt's job at Vogue and all the mischiefs and gossip that came along with it.

Harry laughed every two seconds because of someone's stupidity and/or failure as a human being.

Shockingly- or not- most of Kurt's colleagues were dicks, women and men alike.

But it delighted Harry to hear about those trivial problems, he could lose himself in those stories without questioning his whole being.

It was all thanks to Kurt Harry didn't lose it until now.

He met him on chance in the tube one day, ran into him - naturally.

And then, again, the next day.

Eventually, they talked, or Kurt talked, and Harry listened.

The tube-talks became pub-talks and sooner than later they met more often.

Kurt became Harry’s friend- his only friend to be precise.

Although he liked the folks from work and drank a pint with them now and then, he did not open up to them as he did to Kurt.

He couldn't explain why, but he trusted him more than the others.

Something comforting and cheerful surrounded Kurt.

Maybe because Kurt was a muggle and would skip the whole Chosen-One-what-will-you-do-now-without-having-a-purpose-we-expect-great-things shit.

Harry hated how everyone still beat this fucking dead horse, he should just quit and work with Kurt, he had thought more than once since he'd been here.

Now that the excitement of defeating Voldemort finally faded away and he had lived a "normal" life, whatever that was, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to become an auror anymore.

It seemed so self-righteous and important.

First, he thought he couldn't live without the thrill and danger, but now that he had some peaceful time for himself, he discovered there was so much he never thought about.

Things concerning him and his life, his goals and beliefs.

He questioned some, and more often then he would have liked, he ended up thinking about what would happen when he did not see some things so black and white.

The world appeared simple when you have the ultimate evil facing yourself, but now? Now, nothing remained in the same place any more. He wasn’t in the same place as before.

"I tell you he is a total dick, I've never seen someone this narrow-minded! You would think fashion is partly about being brisk and dauntless.", he just shook his head in wonder and amazement.

Harry still shook from laughing too hard and pressed his fist to his mouth.

Kurt happily saw how he lifted the world residing on Harry's shoulders a bit and was satisfied with his work.

"Any plans for the evening, clueless boy?", Kurt asked fully aware of the answer reflected in his eyes.

"Nope.", Harry shook his head munching his pancakes- he loved pancakes.

"How does an evening with Aladdin sound?"

"The musical, on Broadway?", Harry asked perplexed.

"No, the DVD and my living room.", Kurt mocked him.

"Sounds nice.", Harry answered, missing the sarcasm in Kurt's voice.

"I meant the musical, silly." Kurt laughed, head in his neck and Harry turned red.

"You're too sweet, we will watch the movie on my sofa some when else.", and just like that Harry didn't felt all stupid, but quite like he had a true friend opposite him.

  
The day was uneventful, has both of them were too lazy to do more than slowly walking through New York's parks, passing the time with coffee - well coffee for Harry and a grande non-fat mocha for Kurt- and watching passers-by and discussing their apparent mood.

"Oh dear, he looks real grumpy, someone got dumped yesterday.", Kurt giggled glancing over to the serious-looking mate on a bench.

"We are hopeless. Sitting here and wondering about other people's lives.", Harry snorted.

"What else is there?", Kurt replied looking suspiciously innocent.

"How poetic.", Harry grinned and got up.

"Okay, then we will leave our _social-analysis_ and get ready for Broadway.", just the words made his eyes sparkle in excitement, and he sighed.

"Oh, when is your audition by the way?", Harry remembered suddenly.

"End of the month.", Kurt's look changed from delighted to deadly worried instantly.

"Don't look so dreadful, mate. It'll be alright. You'll see.", Harry said caring and put an arm around Kurt's neck just as he always did with Ron, without thinking about it. Kurt glanced at him curiously but didn't say a word and they walked to Harry's apartment first.

"What'd you think?", Harry cautiously hold up two suits, earning a thoughtful frown from Kurt.

"Do you have an indigo blue shirt?", was the answer.

"Uhm, no..", Harry felt as if Professor McGonagall just asked him about his forgotten homework.

"Doesn't matter I have one in my apartment; you can wear that. And then take the black suit with the velvet collar. That'll do with your eyes.", he ended not quite pleased but, not able to do any better without lending Harry his entire wardrobe – which would make Harry feel uncomfortable, he knew that much.

"Great!", Harry said relieved, propping the suit under his arm.

It was already dark outside, or at least the sky was, the city lights were bright as always when they got outside and made their way to Kurt's flat.

Even though Harry was used to the look of Kurt's wardrobe, sometimes it still took him by surprise how much clothing he had.

Expensive, too.

Within was seemed mere seconds, Kurt picked an outfit, so stunning Harry couldn't decide if it was magic or not.

He chose a vermilion tailcoat with matching trousers, a light cream shirt and black shoes.

"Here.", Kurt tossed him the shirt, apparently indigo blue, while Harry still stood there in silent amazement.

"Thanks.", he managed and pulled his shirt over his head.

After he dressed up, he looked in the mirror being more than satisfied with his reflection.

"You deserve this promotion, mate.", he smiled.

"Thank you, but I will only stay until I set foot on Broadway.", he answered, and they left to literally do so.

  
"How did you actually lay hands on the tickets?", Harry whispered to Kurt as they entered the foyer.

"Friend of mine got 'em.", Kurt murmured back.

Everything, every _one_ looked so posh Harry thought to himself quietly and admired his surroundings.

But then again, I look quite posh myself, he smiled goofily.

"Fancy seeing you here.", he heard Kurt greeting someone.

"Hey, Draco you, too? That's a rare occasion.", Harry froze on the spot.

He must have misheard something.

Unable to turn around he consumed every sound he could possibly receive from behind him.

"Well, I hope it’s good, otherwise coming out tonight, wasn't worth it.", he could not mistake this, this familiar voice was too accurate, too near, too real.

"Don't say it like that. I have someone to introduce you to, so the evening’s worth something anyway.", he practically heard Kurt move around and he swore he could hear a sharp breath following this movement.

"Harry, here is a friend of mine." Harry turned around so slowly, it was almost painful. Looking up, he stared directly into the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy, who stared back at him, disbelief on his face.


	2. Twice The Charm

Kurt frenetically looked from one to another, perceiving the uprising tension that radiated from them. "You know each other?", he guessed from the silent staring contest those two were practising right now.

"Went to school together.", Draco said harshly, it sounded like an insult, and Harry wasn't quite sure how he accomplished that. "Oh. In London?", Kurt tried to cheer the mood by his most delighted tone, but it just sounded out of place. "No, in Scotland.", Draco answered, as Harry stood there, incapable to do anything.

"Scotland?", Kurt said irritated but didn't dare to continue speaking to Draco. "I'll go back to Winston, then. See you, Kurt.", he spoke without parting his eyes from Harry's for a second. Abruptly he turned around and left.

Kurt turned to Harry his eyes wide open, eyebrows near the ceiling, "Okaay, what was _that_ all about?" "That's a long story.", Harry finally brought out, still feeling his neck hair standing up, he did not even wonder how Kurt managed to know that many wizards, judging the people Malfoy returned to. "Then we delay this until after the show, come.", he took Harry's arm and guided him into the hall, hardly concealing his curiosity.

  
Later they were sitting in the theatre's bar, discussing the show over a glass of white wine. "Now, that we're all settled and slightly drunk.", Kurt began, shortly interrupted by Harry's 'Yeah, 'slightly' '. "What's the deal between you and Draco?".

It was strange to hear Malfoy's first name so casually; it was a contrast to the malicious schoolboy Harry thought of when thinking of the name.

"We had a messed-up childhood. Both of us. And in school, we didn't really think much, but rather acted like little shites all the way.", Harry ended focussing on the shiny edge of the counter. He felt Kurt's empathetic gaze from the side but knew he wouldn't force him to tell more than Harry was comfortable with. "We were both so caught up in our own little world, we didn't realise that there was more, I guess.", Harry tried to explain.

"Sounds complicated…", Kurt resumed. "Yep.", Harry said raising his eyebrows and exhaled loudly. "Two vodka soda, and save the soda.", Kurt called out to the barkeeper, who just nodded in apprehension. "I shouldn't drink too much, Kurt, it’s a bit far from here to my flat.", Harry argued. "Then you are staying at my place, what’s the matter. You deserve this, after this shock. I never saw Draco so paralysed, I almost feared he would faint.", Kurt said honestly. "Draco faint?", Harry laughed, "Why would he, he seemed rather composed to me, don't you think?" "Composed?", Kurt frowned, but wouldn’t argue with Harry, who consistently stared at his glass deeply in thoughts.

"Rude bastard.", Harry sighed. "Excuse me?", Kurt asked bewildered. "Not you.", Harry laughed, clearly a sign he was getting drunk, otherwise he would have apologised at least three times in a row, behaving awkwardly, not that Kurt minded those occasions. "I meant, Malfoy." Harry with emphasis. "Malfoy?", Kurt asked. "You're that bad with each other?", he laughed it off. "Seems so, uh?", Harry took a huge gulp and emptied his vodka soda once, nodding to the barkeeper for another round.

Several drinks later both of them were seriously pissed and got up staggering out of the bar, laughing heavily. "Where are you going, Kurt?", Harry asked breathlessly between the laughter, his sight already blurry, clinging to Kurt's side. "I know a nice little bar around the corner, it will be fun.", Kurt was in a real state, his facial expression could not be described differently but high, though they only drank.

"They will never let us in.", Harry argued, but his tone was so cheerful he could as well have approved the idea. "They will.", Kurt exclaimed a fake stern look on his face. Harry did not care, actually. If they made fools out of themselves by trying to get anywhere near a club, or even if they were let in, it wouldn't matter. He was in an excellent mood, wearing a broad grin. "Here it is. The Gaze.", Kurt proudly presented, using his arms as support.

"Hey, Steve.", Kurt nodded to the doorman. "Kurt!", the man grinned, "Already crocked? Maybe I should send you home." "Come on, Steve. We are celebrating.", Kurt winked. "Well, if that's so, how could I refuse. Just don't puke on the floor.", he teased Kurt, who acted indignantly. "Me? Puking? I didn't hear that Steve." They entered with Steve shouting "What are you celebrating, anyway?" behind them. "That we outplayed a doorman.", Kurt shouted back and in they were.

  
The club/bar was not quite full, yet well-attended. Men around twenty-five, looking sleek and excessively well-dressed filled the main space, some women in the same age group sat with them. "Wait, Kurt. Is this a gay bar?", Harry ask bluntly. "Sí.", Kurt replied smiling meekly. "Oh. Well, I bet the cocktails are fantastic here.", Harry said naively, and Kurt was bending in laughter.

They made their way to the bar and after a sceptical look from the barkeeper, got their tequila sunrises. The place was - as everything Kurt dragged him to- neat and chic. Warm light filled the room and combined with the light orange walls it made the cherry cushions and furniture appear soft. Next to the bar, which consisted of an old-fashioned, wooden counter and fitting brown leather chairs, elliptical tables were arranged in a semi-circle along the walls, leaving some space in the middle as a dance floor.

"Perfect.", Harry nodded wisely after taking a sip, when they crushed at one of the tables near the bar, neither of them intending to move a lot. "You're absolutely hilarious, Harry." "What did I do?", Harry asked, acting insulted. "Nothing, just.. nothing. Don't look at me like that." "Like what?" "Like a lost little lion puppy." "A lion puppy? Where did that come from?" "Don't ask me, I'm drunk.", Kurt answered grinning.

Their conversation seemed to have attracted the attention of their neighbours, who were watching them fondly. "Sorry for the bloke.", Harry apologised honestly. "Why would you? You two are adorable.", one of the men said with warm eyes. "Thank you.", Harry said with a childlike tone due to his state and turned to his cocktail again, earning more laughter from Kurt and wide smiles of the couple next to them. "How long are you together?", the other one asked. "Oh! Oh, no. We're not together.", Kurt held up his hands in defence. "Well not yet.", the other man winked at him and the couple started talking again, leaving Kurt puzzled. "How is yours?", Harry asked chattily. "The same as your's: perfect.", Kurt replied pushing the previous conversation aside, that Harry obviously hadn't heard.

  
By the time the bar got more crowded, people were streaming in as if a seal had been broken. Kurt and Harry still had their tequila sunrises in front of them, in which the ice had slowly taken over and we're watching the folks coming in. "That one looks rather nice.", Kurt nodded to the left, where a tall, unknown-aged hipster sat down.

"Go on, talk to him.", Harry encouraged him with a jiggle of his eyebrows – what he only was capable of in a very drunk state, it was very reliable. "Nah, I'm not in the mood, and I'm still not fully over Blaine.", his look turned a bit tortured and Harry, feeling partly responsible and wanting his friend to cheer up again asked "You want to dance then? After all the ice melted to water in my drink, I actually feel sober enough not to knock everyone out.", he smirked. "And apparently you're drunk enough to consider dancing, so this is a good level, I guess.", Kurt concluded, grateful for the distraction. "Sound logic.", Harry laughed, and they fought their way onto the dance floor.

Harry grabbed Kurt's hand they began to move silly, but blithely, not minding the people around them. It was fun. Half tripping, half dancing they held on to each other's hand, preventing themselves from certain falling. "God, my head is spinning. Stop, please, stop.!", Kurt laughed hysterically. "Okay, okay, as you wish.", Harry pulled Kurt closer in a half-hug and wanted to guide him onto the sofa again, when he hit a body while turning around.

"Shit! Watch it you...", the other man started ranting, when a cold liquor ran over Harry's side and leg. Abashed Harry's eyes met these of Draco Malfoy for the second time this evening. Still, in the half-hug with Kurt, Harry looked up to Malfoy, flabbergasted to be yet again confronted with the shadows of his adolescence.

"Um, hey.", Harry felt incredibly dumb as the words passed his mouth. "Sorry.", he added, as Malfoy continued to flatly stare at him, the half-spilt drinks still in an askew position. He didn't answer. "Um, I'll pay for these…", Harry started again, ignoring the damp sensation running down his side, reaching his knees, thank Merlin he wore black this evening. Slowly Malfoy's eyes were tracing downwards, stopping at the point of Kurt's and Harry's hands interwinding and darting up again. "Never mind", he mumbled on his way back to the bar. "I think he's pissed.", Harry said wide eyes of a drunk and pushed Kurt towards their seats. "You think?", Kurt winked and loosened his hand from Harry's. "That's Malfoy, he was always pissed at me, no matter if I deserved it or not.", a weak smile sneaked on his face. "Doesn't matter, uh? We still have our drinks.", he laughed.

After forcing Kurt to dance two additional times and at four o'clock in the morning they left the club. Malfoy didn’t show up again and, in his state, Harry locked all thoughts out about anything that wasn't directly in his sight.

Dawn rapidly spread across the sky bathing New York in warm pink light, but above them, the sky was still midnight blue.

Arms around each other's, they made their way home, not out of a sensation of friendship, but simply to keep upright. Kurt giggled all the way to his apartment, snickering about everything and everyone they stumbled across, working women and men, cars, and mostly traffic lights.

Finally, they arrived on the eighth floor and after a brief struggle with the door, the tricky little key made it in. "Gosh, I'm wasted.", Kurt exhaled, shaking himself out of his jacket. Harry kicked his shoes halfway through the room and fell face forward onto the bed.

"My head...", he moaned. "You don't want to hear me the moment I'll wake up today. I'll wish I was dead.", Kurt said, not sounding too concerned by the death wish. "Until then, make some space.", he poked Harry's side to make him move. Not bothering with a blanket or comfortable positions they fell asleep almost immediately.

Barely nine hours later Harry woke up, a nasty taste in his mouth and an even nastier headache. Blinking he got up, propping himself on his arm. Kurt was still fast asleep, his mouth slightly open, lying flat on his chest only his left arm tucked up.

Carefully, Harry got up, not wanting to disturb him and tiptoed to the kitchen. He washed out his mouth but it didn't help much to get rid of the taste. His temples throbbed hurtfully, and his forehead felt as if an invisible force were punching it with a log.

Yawning and groaning simultaneously Harry prepared some coffee, if he couldn't wash the taste away, he could cover it up with the black liquid.

Eyes still half-closed he thought about taking a shower while the coffee brew. Although it wasn't his first time in Kurt's apartment, he never stayed overnight, neither had the occasion occurred that he needed to shower. Not that he felt awkward to do so, yet it felt strange to get naked when Kurt was behind the next wall, even if named one was still sleeping. Somehow, that made it less embarrassing for Harry, which was how he felt: embarrassed.

Quietly so he wouldn't wake Kurt he got into the bathroom, fetched a towel from the sideboard and slipped into the shower. Soon after the hot water started running the room began to fill with steam, leaving its traces on the mirror. Naturally, Harry had left his glasses on the sink and with all the steam filling the shower his sight got even blurrier than usual.

He closed his eyes to avoid his headache to worsen and allowed the hot water to dribble down his neck and back. Even though the steam made him dizzy he didn't want to leave the shower. Soon enough the full extent of yesterday’s night would pierce through his mind, leaving a scar of embarrassment and shame. Until then he would let the dizzy and warm sensation run through his system take as long as possible. Already the first flashbacks of the previous Malfoy-related events started to crawl up his spine and made his neck hair stay upwards. Oh, the shame. He clutched a hand before his eyes, shaking his head. What did he think? Had he'd been really that drunk? If he would run into Malfoy ever again- not that he intended to let this happen, _ever_ \- he wasn't sure if he was able to look him in the eyes. Probably not. Next to his embarrassment he still was surprised by meeting Malfoy twice in one evening, after not seeing him for years. That was when it hit him. And the full-blown shock of it froze Harry, hand stretched out halfway, to turn off the water.

WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DID MALFOY DO IN NEW YORK?!

Why hasn't he thought of that earlier? The chances of meeting him here… years after they saw each other, on another continent? His hand was still on the tap, face fixed to the wall. Why was Malfoy here? Puzzled by his new revelation and own slowness of mind he finally turned the water off and got out of the shower.

Rubbing his hair dry and wrapping the towel around his waist he left the bathroom, too absent-minded to be conscious of his half-nakedness. His face was still blank when he searched for clean clothes in Kurt's cupboard, Kurt was still not showing any signs of waking up.

After dressing in an over-sized sweater and slim fitted trousers, he got back into the kitchen. Pouring himself another cup of coffee as he sat down contemplating. Only a moment later Kurt showed up - lucky timing.

"Don't talk, or my head'll explode.", Kurt murmured frowning, not noticing Harry's mystified face. Harry nodded and got Kurt a cup of coffee as well. Kurt's eyes were puffy and his hair was ruffled as he took the cup between his hands. Silently, though it wasn't uncomfortable, they sat there sipping slowly. After a while Harry looked up at him, staring bluntly until Kurt responded to his gaze and nodded: "Alright, you are allowed to talk again.", his voice was uncommonly hoarse.

"How do you know Malfoy?", he asked straightforward. "That's the first thing you say to me? No 'good-morning, Kurt', 'How are you, Kurt?'", he teased Harry with a smile. "I know how you feel, Kurt. Same as me, smashed.", Harry replied winking, which caused a sting through his head, as everything did this 'morning'.

"Very well. Malfoy. Um, 'knowing' is a bit much. I know friends of his from Vogue. We met a few times there, and at parties, once or twice. That's it, actually.", Kurt clapped his hands together, instantly regretting the rash act and winced from the pain in his temples.

Processing the given information, a little wrinkle appeared on Harry's forehead. "Malfoy has friends at Vogue?", he finally said irritated. Kurt laughed. "I would say so. Very good friends, too. Some of them.", he looked at Harry meaningfully, who promptly blushed.

"So surprising?", Kurt ask cautiously with an expression of wonder. "Well, I just… I never thought Malfoy was interested in - _fashion_.", Harry got out, not meeting Kurt's eyes. "Believe me, he is. Very. Especially in the chief section...", Kurt emphasised, which made Harry blush even more.

"He is a free man, isn't he?", Harry countered, thinking back to the trials. Kurt frowned at this statement but must have interpreted it differently. "You two were never…?", he asked carefully. "UH? We? No, no! Me and ...", he stuttered. Kurt laughed at his reaction again but immediately held his head. "Ouch."

"Still so bad?", Harry asked caringly. "Worse.", Kurt sighed. "I'm bad at this whole drinking thing. Whenever Blaine and I got out, he drank twice as much as me but I was the one whining like a toddler in the morning.", he smiled but it was a quiet and longing one.

Guilt curled in Harry's stomach for making him think of Blaine, _again_. Their dis-engagement wasn't that far behind. "How would breakfast sound?", he subtly tried to change the subject. "At three in the afternoon? Great.", Kurt answered smiling gratefully.

  
It itched Harry to summon the pans and ingredients needed, itched him to prepare the breakfast using magic. Since he hadn't made breakfast the muggle-way in over eight years his attempt must have looked rather ridiculous to any outsider. Clumsily he pulled out pans and knives, began to slice the bacon, break eggs into a bowl - slowly - afraid to do something wrong.

"You are adorable.", Kurt laughed and shoved him aside to help. "I'm a grown man, Kurt. I am not adorable." he countered, fainting sternness. "Yes, you are.", Kurt hummed happily. "A grown man or adorable?" "Yep.", Kurt smirked. "Hey!", Harry said, half acting, half offended. "You know how to make toast, though?", was Kurt's only response. "Very funny.", Harry mumbled as he fetched four slices.

The morning was nice, relaxed. They ate and joked, watched TV although Kurt trash-talked about every single show and the degeneration of television in America - not that Harry minded. He sat there quietly, grateful for the best morning he had since he got here, that saying something considering the enormous headache.

Snuggling on the couch with his boyfriend-pillow, Bruce, Kurt seemed to be less guarded then Harry knew him around other people. Despite expressing himself so uniquely with his clothes, his feelings were mostly locked inside him, quite ironic if you asked Harry.

He could only assume Blaine played a huge role in this - little did he know. "What am I doing, Harry?", Kurt sighed out of the sudden, pressing Bruce tighter around his neck. He sounded alarmingly bleak.

Harry just looked up, caught off-guard.

"I'm twenty-four years old and in the middle of ending a five-year engagement.", Kurt tried to act cynical, but Harry saw the despair in his eyes- years of living with Ron trained him for this kind of symptoms.

"You've done nothing wrong, Kurt.", Harry fixed him with his eyes, wanting him to believe it.

"I must have done something wrong. I was together with this boy since high-school. Wasn't this the silliest idea? I mean who believes in high-school sweethearts these days? Seriously?! Silly young dreamers...", his voice grew more hysterical with each word and his eyes started to water.

"No, it was not. Kurt, listen.", Harry said with a firm voice. "You've been with Blaine a long time and the break-up" he avoided the word disengagement as much as he could, "was bad. But you mustn't search for reasons to blame yourself!"

"He wanted to marry me, Harry! Marry, jeez. What would we have done if we had already done it? How stupid...", Kurt said, now his breath was hatching.

"And if you did? Then you'd get a divorce.", Harry interrupted him and Kurt winced at the word.

"So what? No one knows the right age to marry. If thirty-years-old marry and it holds five years, it is just as bad or good as when eighteen years old do the same. We can't know what's right for us. We only try. We try and hope because that's the one thing we can do, hope. Hope that we're right, that it lasts, and be good.", Harry took a deep breath, his sight blurred as his mind wandered far off.

He didn't even saw Kurt staring at him, half admiring, half crying.

"You know the reason why we hope?", Harry asked more calmly. "Because in the moment we make the decision it feels right. Being with Blaine, wanting to marry him, was the right thing for you at that time. Now, it isn't anymore, that's nothing to be ashamed of, that's time. It's natural and not the end of the world, okay?", he restored his attention to Kurt again, smiling warm and honest.

"Okay", Kurt sniffed. He crawled up to Harry and threw his arms around his neck, little tears falling down his cheeks. "Thank you", Kurt mumbled, and Harry awkwardly patted his back, it was fourth-year all over again.

Merlin's beard, he missed Hermione!

A sting pierced through his heart; she'd knew how to handle this mess. She would support Kurt, be a good friend to him in times like these. Though he felt a little bit proud helping Kurt right now. It was as if a tiny Hermione spoke from inside him.

Meanwhile, Kurt made himself comfy at Harry's side. Surprised by this action, Harry froze. Sleeping beside Kurt whilst drunk was one thing, snuggling on the couch whilst sober, completely different.

Kurt didn't seem to notice, and after a second Harry relaxed again. Actually, it didn't feel weird at all.

"Jeez, what is it with the prep talk, by the way?", Kurt asked as Harry started to sap through the channels.

"Had a lot of practice in school, you wouldn't believe it.", he smirked.

"Captain of your soccer team?", Kurt asked eyes closed, his heart was still racing from being upset.

"Yeah, being head of a club of which a certain teacher wasn't quite fond of.", he sighed remembering fifth grade.

Kurt propped himself up, "You're kidding?".

Harry looked at Kurt flatly, "Why would I?" "Were you in Glee Club?", Kurt asked against all odds.

"Um, no. Why?", now Harry was actually puzzled, he faintly remembered something about a vicious coach at Kurt's school.

"Never mind. What kind of club was it?", Kurt asked settling again onto Harry's chest. "Self-defence.", Harry answered brusquely.

"Sounds interesting.", Kurt said. "Mhm.", was Harry's only response.


	3. Magic Bonds

"My mum and dad married young, you know."

They were sitting in the hipster café with black walls, the name of which Harry would never keep in mind. Kurt straightened his back, interested in the story Harry began to tell.

"I actually don't know how their marriage was. Never asked. Everyone would probably tell me how wonderful and perfect everything had been and as a child I'd happily accepted that, but today I wonder. Sometimes at least. I assume it wasn't all that perfect. I'd like to think of them as the happiest couple, but it wouldn't be realistic, right?", he smiled bitterly.

"Oh, why bothering with the ugly truth, if you'll never learn it? We don't have to make us uncomfortable.", Kurt assured him.

"Guess you are right.", Harry said a bit more cheerfully than before. "Still I wonder.", memories that weren't his played out before his eyes. Smiles and races and afternoons full of light.

"Naturally.", Kurt agreed and fell silent again, lost in his own thoughts about the past.

"You don't talk about your parents often.", he mentioned. "Nah," Harry rolled his shoulders, "I think people talked about my parents too much back home. Spoils it at some point.", he winked, but the smile on his face didn't reach his eyes.

"Maybe I just grew tired of it." "Sorry", Kurt apologised. "It's okay.", Harry shook his head, a warm look in his eyes.

"Curious about anything?", Harry offered.

"How old were you, when they died?"

"A year."

"Oh, that's harsh.", Kurt's eyes widened.

"I don't know what's worse. Not knowing what it'd be like or knowing and losing it.", Harry wondered, his eyes drifting off.

"I always wanted to live with them a bit longer, knowing them a bit better. Actually, remembering them.", a sigh escaped his lips.

"But knowing about your mother,", he continued slowly, "don't know if I'd cope with that so well. Knowing her and having her ripped away from you. All the comfort and love, taken away.", his eyes focused on Kurt again.

"Maybe both is just as terrible.", Kurt said calmly.

"Maybe.", he truly didn't know. "Do you have any pictures of them?", Kurt ask trying to turn the conversation in a more non-depressing direction. Harry almost said yes but got a grip early enough and shook his head.

"No, not here.", he explained hesitantly. Moving photos would have opened a whole other matter for discussion.

"You want to see my mum?", Kurt asked in higher spirits, a small smile playing around the corner of his mouth. "Sure.", Harry replied, actually curious to see if he could finally tell somebody that they had the eyes of their mum.

Kurt searched in his bag for a second, then pulled out a leather purse. Smiling widely, he held up a tiny photo. A very slender and smart-looking woman was keeping a little boy on her knees. Her hair was light brown and fell down to her hips. The little boy looked jolly into the camera with pink cheeks, his hair the same colour as the woman's, toying with the lofty blue summer dress she wore.

"You both look very happy.", Harry said warmly, studying the picture. "I guess we were.", Kurt replied, "But enough of that sentimental talk. Wanna get out of here?" They finished their breakfast chitchatting about work and colleagues and the weather, staying away from family and dead loved ones.

  
Days later Kurt and Harry found themselves yet again at the riverside, strolling through the park, both were in an excellent mood and talked non-stop, or rather Kurt talked non-stop and Harry now and then interposed with a word or two. Without them noticing, it turned dark.

"Thanks, Harry. Again.", Kurt sighed, looking up into the purple sky.

"For what?", Harry asked perplexed.

"For the last days of cheering me up, silly.", Kurt punched him playfully on the shoulder.

"Nonsense, we were just hanging out, nothing to thank me for.", Harry smiled, to be quiet honest, he was more than thankful having Kurt around.

"Anyway, time for dinner?", he looked hopefully at Kurt.

"It certainly is.", Kurt nodded.

"Lucky me.", Harry said cheerfully.

"Can I just mention that I never ate so much, as when being with Harry Potter?"

"Than, it is a lucky you.", Harry laughed.

"Didn't hurt you, though. You look better now, healthier.", he added thoughtfully. "And that's how Mr Harry Potter flirts, Ladies and Gentlemen.", Kurt bowed in front of an imaginary audience. Behind him, Harry stopped walking, all flustered.

"That's not how I flirt! I wasn't..!", Kurt bend from laughter. "You, jerk.", Harry said grumpily.

"You really think I look better now?", Kurt asked fluttering his eyelashes.

"Can we lookout for food, please?", Harry tried to distract him.

"Of course, right after you told me how I looked before, exactly.", Kurt insisted.

"Too skinny.", Harry said briefly, "Happy now?"

"Not quite.", Kurt teased him. "So, you prefer the ones with more flesh on them, mmh?", even though it seemed impossible, Harry's blush deepened to a perfect scarlet shade.

"Stop it!", he said waling ahead. "Am I living up to your fantasies now?", Kurt shouted after him, trying hard not to burst out in laughter again.

"Stop it, will you?", Harry shouted back, walking backwards, he almost begged.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!", Kurt walked on to keep up, hands up in surrender.

"Thankyouverymuch.", Harry breath out in relief. "Oh, Mr Potter. Sometimes you sound so very British.”

"Was that a compliment or should I feel offended?", Harry asked eye-brows raised. Kurt made a noise, acting as if he had to think that through. "Yeah, I think it is.", he finally said, winking at him and took him by his arm.

Weeks passed without any Malfoy-related accident and soon the memory of the night slid far behind in Harry's mind, covered by work, Kurt and the daily struggle called life. Not that Harry minded, he was glad, to be honest. He could spare each embarrassing memory involving Malfoy. Still, he was curious why in Merlin's name Malfoy was in New York, across the ocean on another continent, far away from home.

Was it voluntarily, a work assignment?

Harry remembered the trials, which decided on Malfoy's future. He remembered all the speeches on becoming a solid member of society and a decent wizard if he had the chance. That he was only eighteen, a boy, stripped of a future if the court found him guilty. He escaped Azakaban, escaped a life-long magic ban. Harry had spoken for him.

He hadn't forgotten about Narcissa then, hadn't forgotten about her helping when it was most needed. When it was crucial for the future of the whole magical society in England. If she had decided to expose Harry, it would have been over in seconds. Back then, Harry had laid awake at nights, wondering about Narcissa. Why did she help him, she was a death eater. Her whole family was. He could easily imagine her education, the same that brought up that lunatic Bellatrix Lestrange.

What he could not imagine was how it must have felt to stand against all that as a child. For him it had always been easy to reject the Dursley's point of view, he did not love them. Did she stand a chance against her family and life? How was it to be educated against all ethical believes and urges? Those nights were long and difficult, he did not want to excuse Narcissa's or Lucious' behaviour, far from it. But the issue was more complex than he had believed it to be when he was 11.

He never discussed this with anyone, he didn't dare.

In court he spoke of Narcissa, about how she could have secured her own life and that of her family, regain full status in Voldemort's eyes by telling him the truth. But she didn't, she put trust in Harry and so she did in her son.

Harry had talked a long time that day. He did not portray Malfoy as a saint, clearly, he wasn't. Instead, he talked about Malfoy not murdering Dumbledore even though it had been a direct order of Voldemort, that he could have been killed for that alone. He _and_ his family. That Malfoy was a boy who had great respect for his parents and wanted them safe. Draco had said so himself, up on the astronomy tower.

Harry remembered Malfoy staring at the desk the whole time, not looking up once, neither at Harry or his mother. Then he had talked about rescuing him back in the room of requirement. At this moment his voice had risen, it had cut through the air strong and with confidence. He had told them of the magic bond that was created at this moment, that he, Harry, did not save Draco's life to see him die in Azkaban or to see his life thrown away. Often, Harry wondered why he said this. This particular sentence, that spared Malfoy a life in Azkaban and gave him a normal wizard's life with a school career to be finished and a job in sight when he was older. He meant it, every word of it.

Somehow, his heart was set on the idea of giving Malfoy a second chance to prove himself. To prove he was more than the spoiled child from seven years ago. He did not want to think of Malfoy rotting in some cell or work off a debt he created as a teenager, it just did not seem fair.

The court agreed with everything Harry had said, it was only weeks after the fall of Voldemort and Harry was the celebrated hero, once again. They met after the final decision of the court. Malfoy looked pale, shattered as if he had escaped certain death. Probably he did. "Thank you.", Draco's voice had been tight, his sight bound to the floor. Harry at a loss of words had just nodded. They'd shook hands and left, alone. Until this month Harry had never seen him again. Not in London, nowhere. 

"Potter! Come, stay here for a second.", Commander Utrick stood in the door frame of his office, a pack of paper in his hand. He was a tall man, three heads larger than Harry, an intimidating man, but there was something in his look that made one feel at ease in his presence. A _soft_ kind of seriousness, strict but understanding.

"Yes, sir.", Harry walked a few steps back. "This report of yours about the incident in Yawstreet. I marked what's wrong. Revise it and bring it to me first thing tomorrow morning. Got it?", he thrust the pile in Harry's hand as Harry nodded and got inside again.

Harry sighed as he peeked into the paper, lots of red markings and scribbled lines. There went his night. Great. The days grew darker with each morning now, autumn was here to stay. Harry packed his stuff together, cramped it into his new backpack.

"Hey, Harry.", a familiar voice greeted him.

"Hey, Mark.", Harry nodded with a smile even though he didn't feel like it. "Getting out?", Mark asked the obvious. "Yes, long day and as it seems, long night.", Harry explained, holding up his backpack with the paper in it. "Utrick, right?", Mark nodded knowingly. "The last report.", Harry confirmed.

"Maybe you want to delay that and have a beer with us, down at McNeill's?", he asked shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

"Not tonight, I have a date and enough to get through the night with the paper.", Harry said fast.

"Oh, okay. Is it serious?", Mark smiled weakly. "Serious?", Harry asked confused. "The date.", Mark said with emphasis.

"Oh, no it's nothing ..um nothing serious, I mean. Another time? The beer, another time? Ok?", Harry promised- why did he say date in the first place, he just meant to meet Kurt.

"Yeah, that'd be great.", Mark said with a smile and turned to leave, but stopped mid-step turning to Harry once again.

"Harry, I know being so far from home must be a bit much and it wasn't too long, but we'd be happy to hang out with you sometimes." Harry felt guilty looking at Mark, he knew he acted strangely. But after Voldemort, something essentially changed for him, he just couldn't figure out what it was.

"Me, too. Honestly. I just feel there is a lot to catch up with since I got here and I feel sort of lost.", Harry blurted out. Where did that come from?

"No need to justify yourself.", Mark reassured him, "I just wanted you to know that you have friends here, too.", he looked expectantly at Harry who nodded, and with that Mark left. He would ask Mark out for a beer tomorrow he made himself promise, and got out to meet Kurt at Vogue.

Harry had only visited Kurt twice in the huge building. He got into the elevator with at least half a dozen busy-looking people.

With his plain sweater and saggy backpack, he felt utterly under-dressed among all the handsome men and gorgeous looking women in designer suits and unique shoes, hipster hairstyles or fashionable beards. A sudden surge of self-awareness rushed through him.

Getting out on the eleventh's floor, Harry went straight to the office that Kurt shared with Nigel. He knocked at the slightly open door and got in.

"Evening.", he announced his arrival.

"Harry!", Kurt exclaimed cheerfully, "I'm almost done, just grab a seat."

"Hey.", Nigel greeted him with friendly eyes. "Ho're you?", his slang was thick.

"Fine, thanks.", Harry answered. "How are you doing?", Harry was always nervous talking to Nigel, even though he was calm and welcoming.

"Too much work, Madelyn treats us like slaves, but well, why work here if you don't like the rush, right?", Nigel winked at Harry, then focussed on his screen again. Harry dragged a chair next to Kurt and sat down.

"What are you working on?", he asked glimpsing at Kurt's screen.

"Fashion week is up, we've been working for months on this.", Kurt said absent-mindedly. Fashion week, right, rang a bell, Harry thought.

"Looks good.", Harry said, he hadn't the faintest idea what he saw on screen.

"You don't have any clue what this is, right?", Kurt laughed.

"Not a single one.", Harry admitted smirking widely.

"Jerk.", Kurt teased him, "Fortunately, you don't have to, but I will talk your ear off with it, anyway.", Kurt laughed as he opened some files to re-arrange the editorial.

“Make it official already, guys. You're not fooling anyone.", Nigel chimed in from the other desk, a devilish look on his face.

"Shut it, Nigel.", Kurt told him without looking up.

"Just saying.", he defended himself. Harry just sat there laughing. He and Kurt knew Nigel was just playing with them.

"So, Harry, how is the detective work. Caught any bad guys, yet?", Harry had told the others that he and was training to become a private detective in lack of official police equipment, not to mention a batch.

"Only paperwork for me. Sadly.", Harry's frustration was real, he ached for some action, but 'catching bad guys' was not part of his job in the early stages of his training. He had to attend classes, fulfil assignments, take part in the physical and magic exercises and that was about it for now. That's what you got for fighting evil: an extra year in school, after a year break to restore the order in the magical world. But his training would advance in the next months and Harry barely endured the time until then.

"If you catch one, bring him to me. My self-destructing nature seems to only favour the one's that try to kill me- emotionally speaking.", Nigel added hurriedly.

"I'll see what I can do for you.", Harry replied more sleekly than he thought was possible, which earned him an appreciative glance from Kurt and a suggestive smile from Nigel.

Harry did not know where all that grit came from, but he did not complain.

"Looking forward to that.", Nigel said eyebrows raised, not wanting to try his new empowerment Harry only smiled back with what he hoped for looked self-confident.

"Ookay!", Kurt stretched the word with wide, ironical eyes.

"I'm through, you're done guys or should I leave the room for an hour?", he joked packing his bag. There went Harry's courage.

"I would never endanger your precious togetherness, Kurt.", Nigel purred.

"Shut it, Nigel.", countered Kurt closing his bag.

Harry got up, "Bye, Nigel, till next time.", Nigel waved at him with slender fingers and Harry caught himself staring for a second too long.

"Night, Nigel, see you tomorrow.", Kurt said trotting out of the office. "Night, you two. If I ever get out alive here, we should get a drink.", he winked. "Sure.", Harry replied before Kurt could prompt the offer with a snarky comment. Two socialising dates in one evening, that's worth a record.

"So, Nigel, uh?", Kurt poked in Harry's side beaming when they were out of earshot.

"What's with him?", Harry played dumb, he did not want that conversation to happen, but if it did, Kurt would not get it easily.

"Don't give me these sheep-eyes. Doing this in front of me stripped you from all restraining-rights.", Kurt emphasised.

"So?", he demanded an answer.

"What, I like him. And despite loving your presence, Kurt, I haven't met too many people. So this should be a good idea. Right?", the last word escape Harry's mouth before he could catch it. He shouldn't ask for approval.

"He _is_ a nice guy, plays the Casanova, but is really sweet.", Kurt encouraged him warmly.

"Okay. I kind of meet Mark as well, from my office.", Harry mentioned, trying to sound casual. They reached the elevator and got in.

"Mark?", Kurt asked astonished.

"The Has-Ask-You-Out-For-Months-But-You-Turned-It-Down-All-The-Time Mark? That Mark?"

"Alright, alright. I was busy and it is just a one-beer thing, anyway.", Harry raised his chin in an attempt to win the give his answer a resolute touch.

"I do not mind, I'm only wondering why it took you so long.", Kurt explained affectionately.

"I can hear your sneering, Kurt. Very loudly."

"Then what took you so long to say yes?", Kurt ask persistently.

"I don't know.", Harry admitted.

"At first I was awkward because I didn't know anyone"

"And of course we don't meet people we don't know.", Kurt mocked glancing at Harry.

"And then", Harry continued emphatically, "it got weirder because I always turned him down."

"Understandable.", Kurt agreed.

"And", Harry paused, "I did not know if it was a let's meet in a group and then have a date-date, or just hanging out with all of them. It was unnerving, I still don't know what I agreed to.", he confessed in a rush.

"So you don't know if it is a date and Mark is just nervous himself, or if he wants to hang out with the new colleague?", awareness spread across Kurt's face and he looked at Harry sympathetically.

"Oh, I see.", at that moment the elevator doors opened, and in front of them stood no other than Draco Malfoy.


	4. Ghosts of the Past

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?", Malfoy burst out after a few seconds of silence, you could have thought he was petrificus-totalused. 

Obviously, he was not, judging by rage radiating from his face. Kurt, taken aback by the sudden hostile atmosphere, stood speechless beside Harry.

The elevator's doors almost closed again as no one got out or in, and Harry wished they had. But Malfoy grabbed the frame with one pale hand, one might have called it aggressively but that was just Harry's view. After the shock had settled, a familiar feeling rose in Harry's chest and suddenly he was back in Hogwarts affronting Malfoy as he used to.

Maybe it was the lack of action in the last years, but something gave him an extra boost of anger.

"What is your problem, Malfoy?", he took a step in and seconds from pushing Malfoy. Kurt followed hastily, and the doors closed. Trapped.

"You are.", the other snarled eyes narrowing on Harry.

"And what exactly did I do to be your problem?", Harry's voice grew louder. Everything around him seemed to slip his conscious, Kurt standing behind him bewildered, was momentarily forgotten.

"You wandering around here all the time.", Malfoy pointed a long finger at him.

The elevator dinged, going down. No one got in.

"Do you hear yourself talking?! I can be wherever I want!", Harry hissed. Malfoy shook his head, there was another emotion mixing in with the anger, or maybe it was beneath the anger, slowly emerging, but Harry couldn't place it.

They went down further and as the voice of the elevator announced they had reached floor level, Kurt's uneasy voice penetrated his raging mind: "Harry?" He looked around and saw people behind the open doors staring at them.

"Outside.", he ordered Malfoy, "Now!"

Without a word, Malfoy rushed out. Harry and an unsettled Kurt following as the small crowd parted for them.

"Speak your mind.", Harry spread his arms, welcoming Malfoy's anger.

"You and your..", Malfoy began but broke off. The fresh night air seemed to cool him off. "Why do you have to do this?", he started anew. "Can I have somewhere to myself?", he almost pleaded. "What are you talking about? Do you think I followed you?", Harry asked incredulously. "No, of course not. That would be nuts even for your standards, Potter.", Malfoy slowly calmed down.

"Then what is your problem?", Harry tried to get it together, settling his voice, they weren't sixteen anymore, they could talk like adults. No wand-waving or hexes. Malfoy put his hands on his hips and threw his head in his neck, taking deep breaths.

"I don't know.", he exhaled. "What are you doing here, Potter?", he asked not sounding angry anymore, just upset. "I work here.", Harry answered calmly. Malfoy nodded as if this was going somewhere. "You?", Harry asked back. "Same.", Malfoy said briefly. Both stood there not knowing what to say or do, their emotions got the best of them before.

"Um, guys. I think I leave and let you talk.", Kurt said, carefully touching Harry's shoulder. Apologetic, he looked at him and nodded with a weak smile. This evening was too much for his emotional capacity. _Call me_ , Kurt mouthed and turned around to leave. Malfoy watched them closely until Kurt's figure vanished. "Want to go sit down somewhere?", Harry offered. Malfoy got a thin smartphone out of his jacket and typed a message. "Yes, let's go.", he said nodding with a stern face. Despite the fact that Malfoy just exposed he owned a smartphone, going out with him and have a sit-down, couldn't make this evening any weirder, Harry thought - far from it.

  
They went into a tiny pub in an alley not far from Vogue. Two pints in front of them and little people around eased both of them, but neither of them knew what to say. "I was just as shocked as you were when I first saw you here.", Harry broke the silence. "Don't think so.", Malfoy counted. Sure, Malfoy wouldn't agree with a single thing he said, Harry thought.

"Then what freaked you out?", Harry tried to reason with him, he had to keep a cool head here and act adult.

"I thought for the first time I got somewhere where no ghost could haunt me. I felt free to turn my back on the past.", he scowled at his beer. "Obviously, I was wrong. Of course, Harry freaking Potter chooses the exact same place to be. I should have known. No really, I should have known fate screw me over.", he took a big draught, his Adam's apple moving up and down. Harry stared blatantly at him. He hadn't expected honesty.

"Sorry for screwing you.", it slipped out before he had time to think it through. This time it was Malfoy who stared at him off guard. "I mean, your plans.", Harry tried to explain, Malfoy took another slug and put the glass down, turning his head to the side, looking away.

"So Auror-trainee?", he changed the topic. "Yes, third year.", Harry nodded and Malfoy apparently decided it was safe to look at him again.

"What took you so long? I thought the first thing Harry Potter would do is jump up and hunt bad death eaters."

"Not so much, there was a lot of work to be done, other than hunting death eaters.", Harry tried to explain without mentioning the trials, but Draco got it anyway. He could tell from the way his eyes flashed for a second, how could this not be on his mind.

"Right.", he nodded. Again silence.

"One question, Malfoy.", Harry drew small circles with his index finger on the shiny, wooden surface, leaving small smears.

"What?", Malfoy ask, caution in his look.

"A smartphone?", Harry raised his eyebrows. "Comes in handy.", Malfoy argued dignified, drinking again.

"I'm not degrading it, I was just surprised you have one.", he laughed. _Laughed_ in the presence of Malfoy, not at him or despite him, but because he really felt like it. Amazing.

"And the muggles aren't contactable without one.", Draco added. "That's another thing, the high-born Draco Malfoy has muggle friends.", Harry chuckled. _Chuckled,_ Merlin's beard what was this day. "Who said they are my friends?", Malfoy tested him, but a small smile lingered in the corner of his mouth.

"A birdie told me about your friends at Vogue.", Harry mused, teasingly. "Oh, your little birdie, Hummel?", Malfoy asked, smiling triumphantly. Harry did not respond to that and only continued: "Close friends, as I hear." "None of your business.", suddenly the familiar, cold gaze returned to Malfoy's eyes. "I didn't mean it like that.", Harry said quietly. Malfoy didn't answer.

"So?", Harry enquired. "So what?", Malfoy asked raising the glass to his lips. "Are you close to them?", Harry didn't even know why he asked Malfoy such a personal question, they were childhood enemies. Arch-enemies, according to Ron. Malfoy seemed to wonder about that, too. "Yes, I have friends here. _Had_ closer friends.", he emphasised.

"Ah.", was the only sound Harry managed. "You and Hummel are-?", Malfoy asked, eyes watching Harry's. "What? No. We're not.", Harry uttered helpless, because Malfoy looked unconvinced. "Did you already forget: I saw you in the club.", he argued. "I know, but we aren't together."

"But you're-", Malfoy made a short movement with his hand, Harry looked at him puzzled.

"I am what?"

"You know, Potter. You are .. _flying for the other team_. Right?", for a moment Harry thought Malfoy's cheeks were blushing - one must think it would be obvious with his porcelain skin, but it also could be the light.

"Oh.", the sickle dropped.

"Um, yes I am.", he confirmed blushing himself now. Merlin's beard, how did they end up discussing their sexuality at night in a half-lit pub?

"I never thought... I mean you and the Weasley girl.", Malfoy started frowning, at what Harry wasn't sure about. "Short period of confusion." he joked. "We were together, but it did not felt right after a time.", Harry's voice grew quieter with each word. He did not want to be reminded of that time, hurting Ginny, struggling with his thoughts, trying to figure out who he was besides 'the boy who lived' and 'the chosen one'.

"But I never knew you were.. you know interested in fashion.", for the second time this evening his mouth was faster than his mind, how should Malfoy know about his conversation with Kurt. But Malfoy got it after a second of staring at Harry in incomprehension, he had always been smart. "I have always been _into_ fashion. Didn't you saw me in school? I was the smoothest of them all.", Malfoy grinned mischievously. "All that time?", Harry asked stunned, but then again he'd never seen him with a girlfriend holding hands or anything. "Ever saw me with a girl?", Malfoy said. "Parkinson?", Harry suggested. "Nah.", he shook his head, a grim expression on his face.

They just ordered another round, when Mark and some other colleagues from Harry entered the pub. Of course, Mark spotted Harry within a second and the whole Auror bunch headed to their table.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Harry tried to look casual, imagining a row of sore outcomes considering Mark thought Harry was on a date.

"Hi, Harry.", Mark nodded in his direction with a smile on his lips but his eagle eyes were observing Malfoy.

"Hey.", Harry managed to say, praying this wouldn't end sour. "Ma-", he began, but then stopped and tried again.

"Draco, that's Mark, Steven, Richard, Iona and Nell from the Auror department. You guys, that's Draco.", Harry introduced everyone as they smiled and nodded politely. "We were just around the corner at Célon, did not expected you in here.", Mark noticed and Harry who did not know what to respond to that, tried to look like someone who was interrupted in a serious conversation - however, such a person would look like - to shoo Mark and the rest away.

Apparently, Mark got the - faked- hint and said "But we won't be bothering you two any longer. Have a nice evening.", he winked at Harry and with a last gaze at Malfoy, went to the bar. A moment of silence followed as Harry turned his head to Malfoy who eyed him closely.

"Draco?", he asked Harry contemptuously. "How was I supposed to introduce you? 'That's Malfoy the boy from school I only call by his last name, don't ask why?", Harry defended himself. "You forgot arch-enemy.", Draco corrected him and Harry almost snorted. "That's reserved for Voldemort only.", Harry countered, watching if he was crossing a line here. "Well I heard this position is free then.", Malfoy dead-panned. "Point taken.", Harry grinned.

Talking to Malfoy like that was oddly pleasant. They were neither playing polite and nor did they go for the other's throat, which was clearly an improvement. This was completely different from any experience they made so far being in each other's company. He liked it.

"So what's the deal with the observation unit?", Draco asked glancing in the direction of Harry's colleagues. "Mark?", Harry instantly got who he was referring to. " _Mark_.", Draco muttered under his breath. "No idea.", Harry half-lied, since he could only guess what the 'deal' with Mark was.

"Is he hitting on you in the office?", Draco pressed forward, not accepting vague answers. "What? No.", Harry shook his head an exaggerated frown of disbelief between his eyebrows. A bit too much. "So he _is_ hitting on you.", Draco concluded and took another draught of the newly arrived beer. "I don't know. Maybe. But possibly not.", Harry craned to have a look at Mark, who was now busy talking to Nell.

"How can you not know if someone is hitting on you?", Draco jeered. "I just don't know, okay?", Harry was getting annoyed. "Did he asked you out?", Draco asked. "Well, maybe. Yes.", Harry admitted. "But only to go with the whole team.", he added confidently. "You're sure?", Draco didn't let go, nor took the defeat. "He asked so often, I'm sure.", Harry felt a little victory near. "Often?", Draco remarked. "How often?", and just like that, the victory slipped away.

"Um, dunno. I did not count.", he tried to argue. "That many, then.", Draco grinned dangerously - Harry wasn't quite sure why. "Remember what he said the first time?", he drawled the words, dragged them out. One slender finger waving through the air, distracting Harry who tried recall the first week in New York.

"If I wanted to grab a beer down at the bar with him.", he remembered.

"And you said?"

"I said no.", Harry said dignified. "And the second time?", Draco persisted.

"What should I know. The same, I guess. What does it matter?"

But Draco wasn't satisfied, "What did you answer?"

" I said no.", Harry repeated, why was he getting so bothered by this.

"There you have it. I assume you turned him down the third and fourth time", this wasn't a question for Harry to answer, "so he grew embarrassed to ask you out on a date, but wasn't willing to give you up and turned it into a socialising lets-become-friends-charade.", Draco explained with a content expression on his face.

"When did you become a people-expert?", Harry mocked, feeling beaten and put out, but Draco did not answer. Again silence fell, but this time it felt tenser. Both drank their beer until Draco looked up and his face turned from contemplating to upset. "I don't care if this guy likes you or not, but if he continues to stare at me like that, I'm hexing him.", he grumbled. "You will not.", Harry said calmly, he knew when Draco talked big but without bite. "Wait and see.", he muttered. "I'd like to see you take on an Auror in training.", Harry laughed - the wrong thing to do when dealing with that particular Malfoy, never try to test him.

Draco got up and Harry had only so much time left to grab him by his wrist, stopping him from leaving the table. "Cut it out, Malfoy.", he said sternly, trying to keep him by his side. "Let go of me, Potter.", Malfoy hissed. "I will not. Now calm down and sit.", he would not have a row involving Mark and Malfoy in this pub, not tonight, not in his overstrained state. All this flirting and fighting and fight-flirting were just too much for one day.

Malfoy straightened his shoulders and sat down again, breathing slowly. "Good, now drink.", Harry said, not noticing that his hand was still on Malfoy's wrist- or at least it had been a second ago. When Malfoy had sat down again his hand had shifted only a fraction, making his hand land on Harry's. Neither Malfoy nor he realized that small change and drank half his beer in one go. "Better?", Harry asked with raised eyebrows. Malfoy nodded when his eyes fell on the Potter-Malfoy-Hand-Collision and his eyes widened. Following his gaze, Harry hastily took his hand right off.

"Sorry", he mumbled embarrassed. Both turned their heads, simultaneously glancing at the shiny, wooden floor. "So..", Harry tried to remember what they were talking about, but the sensation of Malfoy's hand was still too present on his fingers and the image of their hands blocked all his thoughts. "So, what, Potter?", Malfoy drummed his fingers on the table, visibly uneasy.

“Merlin, I don't know.”, Harry gave in trying to turn this into a less awkward conversation. “This is senseless.”, Malfoy moaned frustrated, a little wrinkle appeared on his forehead. Harry did not answer him, his spirit sank gradually now.

"Let's call it a night, shall we?", Harry said at last. He could hardly look into Malfoy's eyes, but when he did he thought seeing his body tense up, taking a sharp breath. Only for a second.

"Good.", Malfoy agreed, dashing down his pint. He got up, then jerked his head to Harry, hesitating. "You going to stay?" "Um, no. Suppose not.", Harry answered puzzled. Instead of an explanation, Malfoy just nodded. "I'll get the tab.", he added and rushed off.

"Alright, thanks.", Harry said quietly, but Malfoy was already gone. Stepping out into the cold night's air, a harsh wind bit their faces and both spontaneously pulled their scarves tighter around their necks. Mark had glanced over as they left. Harry - all smiley and social - wished them all a pleasant night, explaining how tired he was and lest not forget about that report (!), that he really couldn't stay. Not that he thought anyone would believe him, for them he was on a date with a tall blonde, leaving with the same blonde in the middle of the night.

"Which way?", Malfoy looked at him with an expression Harry could not read.

"I live in Queens." Harry told him, guessing this was what Malfoy was referring to. Malfoy nodded again as if processing some crucial information. "I live down um..", Malfoy had an irritated frown on his face pointing over his shoulder. "In lower Manhattan. So...", very slowly he shifted from one foot to the other, softly kicking the air. "So...I better get going, then.", Malfoy added, eyes darting between Harry and his direction home. "Y-yeah, sure.", all of a sudden Harry's hands went numb and shaky. "Night.", Malfoy said, his frown deepened. ""Nigh'.", Harry nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

The whole evening felt weird. Meeting Malfoy, having a beer, talking. It was so ordinary and dull, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something odd just happened. "Potter.", Harry looked up at the sound of his name. "See you around.", Malfoy looked serious, no smile and no sneer, nothing. Just plain grey eyes, not gazing, but _looking_. Harry nodded briefly, his eyes fixed on Malfoy's. He swung around, tearing away, determined to leave and get this weird night out of his mind. Now and then he could see his breath in the cold air. White dust against black sky.

Hopping down the street to shake the numb feeling in his feet he looked out for the next tube station, he wasn't eager to walk home an hour or two.

"Merlin's beard, finally!", Harry exclaimed tiredly of the cold night as he stepped onto the dirty staircase. Forensic light greeted him at the end of the stairs, accompanied by gum-plastered ads. At this time of night, the smell of sick lingered persistently in the corners. Harry hurried down the tunnel to the track, only three people were waiting with him, one of them mumbling away to himself nervously, nothing new to Harry.

Distracted he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glancing around. As the tube arrived Harry's feet were frozen, his fingertips burning red and the cold air seemed to soak into his entire body. Remembering his mobile phone, which pressed against his thigh as he sat down, he started scrolling through his messages. 

Except for Kurt, not many people would call or text him. Hermione did occasionally, some witches and wizards who were going all muggle-style, too. Kurt had texted him. 'You're alright?', with a little worried looking icon next to it. Harry already forgot he promised to call him. Anxious that he might had to re-create the events of the evening for Kurt he pushed the little call icon.

“You call early.”, was his 'hello' from a surprised Kurt. “Yeah..”, Harry responded sighing. “So? You're alright then?”, Kurt asked curiously. “Suppose so.” “That's not an answer, Harry.”, Kurt lectured him, then teased: “Do I have to come over and get the answers out of you?”

“You want to come over?”, Harry asked, a little part of him wanted Kurt with him. He was exhausted and naturally fine by himself, but today was weird and his thoughts were even weirder, he hoped Kurt could just shoo this non-sense away.

“Seriously?”, Kurt asked off-guard. “You don't have to, sorry. I'm just a bit weird today.”, Harry sputtered and started nibbling on the tube's window with his finger, probably getting all sorts of bacteria on his skin.

“Not just today, believe me.”, Kurt answered and Harry could sense how he raised his eyebrow. “So you want to come?”, Harry hated himself for being so persistent and needy. “Sure, I'll be right there.” “Take your time”, Harry said hurriedly, remembering he had to hide some wacky-wizards stuff, which he took with him when he moved. “Don't worry.”, Kurt tried to calm him, but Harry did worry. A light-hearted “See ya.”, and Kurt was gone.

As soon as he arrived, Harry started throwing his belongings in one of Hermione's Poppin-bags, except for his potions, which he carefully sorted into his potions cupboard. He got it from Ron (and probably Hermione) last year. The light cedar wood was still polished and new, fondly he stroked its surface. He missed his friends.

Kurt popped in just in time to save him from a major break down. “Tea?”, Harry asked him. “ That'd be great.”, Kurt smiled back launching himself on the couch. Glad he could do something practical, Harry started to prepare the hot water with his back to Kurt. The living room and kitchen weren't separated, and usually, Harry liked that, but sometimes he wanted to be on his own without running to the bedroom.

Nervously he left the not-yet boiling water and turned to Kurt. Oddly the light-orange walls and the smooth white furniture suited Kurt on the couch, his porcelain skin and delicate features glowing softly in the light. Even his clothing seemed to fit the surroundings. Harry shook his head, his mind was wrecked. Definitively.

Kurt patted the space next to him. "Come one, tell me everything.", he smirked sarcastically, Harry just raised his eyebrow, exhausted and tired. "What, too much?", Kurt laughed. "For real, now. Tell me what happened. What's going on between you and Draco?"

"That's kind of a long story.", Kurt had to be seriously interested, since he did not try to push Harry, but just listened. Somehow, the silence and attention he got from Kurt startled Harry, it felt more serious than he liked.

“He and I went to school together, boarding school in Scotland.”, Harry paused waiting, but no snarky comment passed Kurt's lips. Alright, then. Into battle.

“We didn't get on that well. It was – rather difficult. He was difficult, and no don't give me that look.”, Harry said with emphasis when Kurt made a face. “He _was._ And as the years passed, fighting became some kind of basic level of our communication. Using every chance to comment and snarl at each other. We were hot-tempered and -”, “Bitchy?”, offered Kurt. “Yes, probably.”, Harry admitted.

“Nothing Draco did got pass my eyes. I spent a huge deal trying to figure out what he was up to. And he _was_ always up to something, trust me.”, he went on. “Sure, he was.”, Kurt said unconvinced. “Anyway”, Harry continued, “We never had the chance to talk about what happened. We just started off badly and it got worse over time.”, Harry did not feel like talking anymore, there was so much to say about Draco and him, but he didn't know to articulate it.

“Not such a long story.”, Kurt said after Harry had paused for some time, but Harry did not answer. He stared out of the window, at the blinking lights of New York City. Sensing Harry's unease Kurt got up and took the boiling water Harry completely forgot about, and brewed some tea.

“Honestly, it seems like you two just not get on.”, Kurt started again, but Harry still did not want to say anything. “When you meet it just gets weird. You freeze on the spot as if you were in shock.”

“We were just surprised to bump into each other. On a different continent. This _is_ kind of weird if you ask me.”, Harry suggested, not talking about the obnoxious paranoia, stalking and hexing each of them experienced during their time at Hogwarts.

“Malfoy comes from a pretty traditional family, they sort of spoiled him.”

“In how far?”, Kurt asked curiously.

“I dunno. They were – well racist. Snobby, rich people with too much pride and bad connections. Malfoy surely was messed up by them.”, Harry shrugged.

“Sounds harsh. I never heard him say anything rude – well not in _that_ way.”, Kurt said thoughtfully. Harry knew what Kurt meant. Malfoy wouldn't complain about muggles in the muggle world, he wouldn't be racist the way muggles were. Hence Kurt wouldn't even know what Harry was talking about. “People change, I guess.”, his shoulders sank and his face construed into something hurt and bitter.

“You know, I had problems with a shitty guy in school", Kurt's voice was distant, "harassing me because I was gay. Turned out, he was gay himself, but couldn't allow himself to be. His father was a homophobe and he couldn't accept who he was. All the hate was self-hatred. All the shit he said about others, were about himself actually.”

Kurt explained, his eyes staring at nothing really, “I just think – and I don't want to defend any bully here – that sometimes they are having a hard time and cannot deal with it.”

Harry didn't answer, he never really thought about Malfoy having problems with himself, not more than teenagers usually do.

“Maybe Malfoy couldn't express how he felt, or couldn't talk about his issues with others and ended up projecting all that anger onto you.”

“Maybe.” Harry finally said, doubt in his voice.

“Anyway, things are different now.”, he ended his little story. “How?”, Kurt asked. “I don't have the urge to punch him when he opens his mouth.”, Harry joked. “And this is why?”

“Dunno. He behaves like a decent human. Seeing nice – at least they seem nice – people. Saying reasonable things, most of the time.”, Harry tried to laugh it off but something in his guts shifted and twisted and pressed uncomfortably against his inside.

“Did you ever had a long conversation with him, except insulting each other?”, Kurt questioned, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “Well, not exactly what one would call a conversation,” Harry admitted. “Most of the time we were just shouting at each other, pointing out how pathetic the other one was.”, Harry remembered the fights in the hallway, or on the quidditch fields.

“Sounds fun.”, Kurt said sarcastically. “But honestly, Harry. Overly emotional reactions towards someone, following them around and having them on your mind all the time? Sounds like you had had an obsession with Malfoy.” For a brief moment, Harry composure fell and his face was blank in disbelief. “An obsession? Are you serious?”, he asked mockingly, faking a laugh. “Dead serious.”, Kurt countered imitating Harry's accent. “Clearly you are not, because this is mental.”, his voices hitched and Harry could kick himself for it.

“I'll get some more tea for you.”, dropping the topic, Harry grabbed Kurt's mug and hurried to the counter, taking any chance to flee this conversation. Obsession? Him, with Malfoy? Ridiculous! He sighed heavily and poured the tea so violently into the mug, one might think it had hurt his feelings.

“You Brits and your tea.”, Kurt said casually, smiling whilst shaking his head. Harry kept standing instead of sitting down, shaking from a sudden struck of anger. How could Kurt drop such a bomb and then leave it, as if nothing has happened? Rude on so many levels. Kurt sensed the aggression radiating off Harry and looked up. “I'm sorry, Harry.”, he sounded only the minimum of sorry one could without sounding ironical.

“I didn't want to put you in such a state, it was just a thought that's all. We can just drop it and never talk about it again.”, now he just sounded downright smug. Harry frowned, shaking, but also too tired to start a fight. Frustrated he let himself fall down next to Kurt again, causing the tea within Kurt's mug to shimmy.

“Merlin, I'm so tired.”, he huffed stretching his arms above his head. “Merlin?”, Kurt asked irritated. Harry froze immediately. _Shit_ , was the only thought blinking in his head. _Shit_. _Shit_. _Shit_. _React. Now!_ “Huh? That's only something we say over the pond. Like God or Man.”, he lied so plainly, trying to sound casual. 

“You're weird. Is this, some 'King-Arthur-United-Our-Beloved-Kingdom' thing?”, he chuckled. “Guess so.” Harry kept lying, trying to breathe normally.

“It's gonna get better. With Draco, that is.”, Kurt murmured encouragingly, a small frown on his forehead, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. “If you say so.”, Harry replied far from convinced, shutting his eyes close. This evening was too much, he needed to sleep. Maybe a week would do.


End file.
